


The Things We Fight For

by PurpleArrowzandLeather



Series: Brave out of Spite [2]
Category: Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Father-Son Relationship, much-needed talks, necessary evils
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 05:53:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17954822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArrowzandLeather/pseuds/PurpleArrowzandLeather
Summary: Bruce and Jason are in the midst of rebuilding everything they thought they lost when Joker shot Jason. Bruce is still coming to terms with the idea that he's alive despite the fact that he's been in the manor for the last two weeks.





	The Things We Fight For

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SleepyPotato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyPotato/gifts).



> The Arkhamverse we deserve, and definitely the one we need right now. Also, this should probably be read after the first fic.

          The last few weeks have been a long period of recovery for both Jason and Bruce. Jason is actually doing better, in all reality, He and Bruce went out on the streets last week to help clean up what’s left of the mess, and Dick had definitely been surprised to see Jason. Ever since he moved to Bludhaven, he’d been adamant that Bruce should keep out of his life as much as possible. Bruce obliged, and then somehow he was upset that he wasn’t in the loop as soon as Bruce found out. Given, Jason is his little brother.  

          It’s still a bit surreal to wake up and have Jason two doors down the hall again. Alfred has also been unusually chipper, though, Bruce knows exactly why that is. It's the same reason Bruce has been unusually happy.

          Bruce wanders out of his room and down the hall the few steps it takes to get to Jason’s door. He knocks, mindful of Jason’s privacy. 

          “Come on in, B.” 

          Bruce enters, spotting Jason smoking out on the balcony. Alfred would kill him if he did that in the house. 

          “How’re you doing?” 

          Jason grunts, an unfortunate learned habit. He hangs his head a little before taking a long drag of his cigarette, the billowing cloud of smoke ushered out by a shaky breath. He looks up at Bruce, an edge to his gaze. 

          “That good, huh?” 

          “Residual effects of the fear toxin.” 

          Bruce nods. “Me, too. Last night I battled the Joker again.” 

          Jason hums, continuing to smoke for a minute before answering. “Did you win?” 

          “Yes. It was… different.” 

          His son’s only response is a deep chuckle, but his words following are bitter. “I’ll bet. I know you haven’t been sleeping well, and I know it’s because you’re still seeing things. And I  _know_  it’s not because of the fear toxin.” 

          “For the record, I didn’t lie.” 

          “A lie of omission is still a lie. When I asked you if something was wrong and you told me not to worry about it, that’s kinda telling with you.” 

          Bruce sighs. “Yeah. I know. I… was infected by him, and until today, I would see him everywhere. The fear toxin only made it worse, but I pretended nothing was wrong for Alfred and Tim’s sake. There was nothing I could do to change it.” 

          “Except win.” 

          He hums. “Except win.” 

          Jason puffs out another cloud of smoke. “So, what finally got you out?” 

          “I realized what he wanted. He wanted to live on forever, but with me holding him back, there was no possible way for him to escape. He’s gone.” 

          “Did you kill him?” 

          “In a way.” 

          Jason chuckles, looking up to search Bruce’s face for remorse. “More than one way.” 

          Bruce sighs. “Yes. In more than one way.” 

          They stand on the balcony for a little while, the wind blowing across the edge of the building gently. Jason’s jacket flips in the wind, the zipper touching Bruce’s arm once or twice. He knows things are still a bit awkward between the two of them, but he’s more than glad to have his son back. That’s not an experience he would ever willingly give up. Any one of his Rogues would have to pry the opportunity from his cold dead hands before he’d ever let Jason go. Never again. 

          “I don’t regret killing him.” Bruce says finally, acknowledging the thoughts that have been running around in his head ever since he broke Joker's neck. “I don’t feel guilty that I killed him. I’m more… ashamed that it didn’t feel wrong.” 

          “Some people deserve to die.” 

          Bruce understands. He probably understands that more than anyone, but to hold lives in his hands and just take one feels wrong. He thought he would feel different about killing the Joker after he’d done it, but now? Now, he isn’t so sure. He’d imagined it more than once, though, in his imagination, it was always more than the quick death he’d gotten. There was always blood.  

          Jason takes a breath, flicking embers away. “I’m not going to stop, Bruce.” 

          “I don’t expect you to.” 

          “You aren’t going to lecture me on the value of human life? Try to convince me that your way is the best way?” 

          Bruce sighs. “You walked down your own path a year ago. You aren’t ashamed of who you are, and I could never fault you for believing in your cause. Once… before I killed the Joker, I might have. If I hadn’t seen the results of having him gone.” 

          “Crane tried to take over the city.” 

          “I don’t think he ever would have gotten that far without the militia pulling my attention away.” 

          Jason glares. “You know, I said I was sorry. You blaming me isn’t going to-“ 

          “I’m not. That’s not what I was.…” He takes a breath. “I don’t blame you, Jason. It may have been a little overkill, but I would never blame you for being angry. You had every right, considering the information you were given.” 

          “Telling me I was misinformed doesn’t help.” 

          Bruce closes his eyes, leaning down on the balcony rail as Jason stubs out his cigarette and flicks it down into the small bin at his feet. After it had been established that Jason had taken up smoking, measures had been taken to ensure he didn’t burn down the manor. 

          “I was never very good at explaining myself to anyone.” 

          Jason nods once, looking like he’s debating taking out another smoke.  

          “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, kiddo.” 

          A sharp huff of laughter leaves Jason and Bruce shakes his head, putting a hand on his shoulder. Jason takes the action for what it is, turning so Bruce can wrap his arms around him. He’s taken to doing so at least once a day, just to remind himself that he can. Just to remember that Jason isn’t going anywhere.  

          His son is safe. 

          It’s a long few minutes before either of them speak again, resuming their positions on the balcony in companionable silence. Jason doesn’t seem very willing to break it, and Bruce can’t exactly say that he blames him. It’s overwhelming enough even after two weeks for Jason to be standing in front of him. 

          “What are you going to do about the militia?” 

          Jason glances back at his helmet, the blue visor waiting for him to pick it back up. “Don’t know yet. What do you think?” 

          “I think that you could do whatever you want. You hired them, and I’m sure that they’ll run with whatever you decide.” 

          “Well, with as many dead people as there are here, there are sure to be jobs open.” 

          Bruce laughs, that kind of gallows humor that runs in their lives showing through. “That’s a morbid way to think about it, despite the fact that it’s the truth.” 

          “Don’t suppose it’s a comfort that it was mostly criminals?” 

          “No.” 

          “Didn’t think so.” 

          Jason is about to speak again when Alfred knocks. “Breakfast, Masters. It is past time to be moving as it is.” 

          Bruce smiles, patting Jason’s shoulder. “Time to go.” 

          They eat breakfast in silence, Tim coming in for a few seconds to grab a large cup of coffee and a bagel. Jason stares a bit as he bites right into it without toasting it or putting anything on it. He slides behind the grandfather clock and disappears. 

          “That was disgusting.” 

          Bruce chuckles. “That was Tim. He’s on the Firefly case right now, and it doesn’t look like he’s taking a break. He's trying to figure out who got the supplies to all the villains since Gotham was quarantined.” 

          “Anyone catch the Mad Hatter yet?” 

          “Not yet. Officers have been disappearing, though, and I have a feeling those two things are connected.” 

          Jason accepts tea as Alfred offers it to him and Bruce takes his black coffee, knowing that Alfred would never let him brew his own while he was in the house. It’s his way, though, Jason has been helping him cook. 

          Jason get up after they’ve finished. “So, GCPD? I'm sure there are plenty of cases, and we still need to talk to Gordon.” 

          “Yep. It's time to fill him on on what happened to the Arkham Knight.” 

          Usually, Bruce wouldn’t operate during the day at all, but the many criminals on the loose warrant a little extra work. They’re lucky to get two hours of sleep as it is. Still, when it’s necessary, they need to be willing to make sacrifices. They get suited up, and Bruce watches Jason retreat to his room for his helmet. He’s been staring at it for the last few days, warring with himself over ever wearing it again. He must have decided, Bruce supposes. 

          They leave the manor and travel underground into the city. Jason slides his domino on under his helmet before placing it securely on his head. Bruce has to say, he does cut an imposing figure in his Arkham Knight get-up.  

          Jason examines all the buttons and controls, familiarizing himself with them again just in case he needs to drive. Lucius hadn’t been impressed when he said he needed a Batmobile like the tank outfitted for two people. “A tank, though? You think hiring an entire militia is overkill when you bring a tank to a gunfight?” 

          “Says the man who had drones and missile launchers and tanks of his own.” 

          “Touché.” 

          “It really was an impressive effort.” Bruce says, a smile in his voice as he dives into the garage, the tank catching more air than anyone could reasonably expect it to. Jason has to say, it is a fun ride. He’d been wondering what it was like when he was just starting his crusade, and now he knows that it’s just as fun as it looks. 

          They slide into the designated Bat-spot in front of the doors and Bruce hops out with practiced ease. A smirk graces Jason’s face as the guards at the doors almost swoon. Jason follows shortly after, donning his most aggressive stance and moving for the doors as well. The guards point their weapons at him, Bruce taking a defensive step back to shield him. 

          “He’s with me.” Bruce growls, his tone anything but friendly. 

          Jason inclined his head to one guard, straightening to make himself seem a bit bigger. He makes sure to pause in front of him, the blue eyes of his mask boring holes into his skull. “Officer.” he huffs, his tone smug. 

          The modulator makes it better, the officer actually flinching. Bruce calls for him and Jason turns, a threatening chuckle coming from deep in his throat. 

          “That was unnecessary.” 

          “Aw, come on, old man. I got a kick out of it.” 

          “Intimidating the police is not a good way to make friends. If you don’t want to get shot, I would highly suggest you try a different strategy. I guarantee that some of the dirty cops here wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in you.” 

          Jason shrugs. “It’s not like I haven’t been shot before.” 

          Bruce stops, looking to Jason before they enter the prison block. “I’m hoping to avoid that at all costs.” 

          As soon as Jason steps into the cell block, everything goes quiet. The militiamen step forward and press against the bars, looking for a sign that he’s here against his will. Jason’s gaze sweeps the cells with his men in them.  

          “Don’t worry, boys. You’ll be outta here by end of day or better.” 

          Bruce waits until they’re outside the cell area to sigh at him. “Jason.” 

          “What? Do you want me to be sorry? It’s my fault they’re in here, so the least I can do is get them out.” 

          Bruce is just about to answer when that stupid reporter pokes his head out of his office. “What the-!” 

          Bruce pushes him back into the room with a rough hand to his face, causing him to fall onto his back. He closes the door, locks it with the keys Jim gave him, and breaks off the door handle. He can feel Jason staring at him from under his helmet. 

          “What?” 

          Jason blinks. “You said something about overkill before?” 

          “Trust me, that’s not help you need today. He has to be the worst reporter alive.” 

          He presses a hand to the door, pausing before opening it. Jason waits for him to work up the resolve to tell him something paternal. He’s been making an effort to say what’s on his mind more often, and it’s definitely helping his relations with his kids. Well... Dick didn’t seem to appreciate it as much as Bruce thought he would. 

          Bruce can’t exactly blame him. It’s just like he’d told Jason earlier. He’s made a lot of mistakes. 

          “Stay behind me when we go in.” 

          “I can take care of myself.” 

          Bruce grits his teeth. “Any number of these cops might kill you on sight. That’s most of the reason why I haven’t brought you to the precinct until now.” 

          Jason smirks, gesturing for him to lead the way. He’s not about to complain if Bruce suddenly has the urge to be overprotective. It’s been too long since either of them have had the chance.  

          Bruce pushes open the door and the cops come to attention. They don’t see Jason at first, but the moment they do is filled with raised weapons and shouts of warning. They yell at Jason and a few younger ones make threats. Jason’s been through too much to be cowed by yelling, but Bruce made a request for Jason to stay behind him, so he’ll honor it.  

          “Drop your weapons!” Bruce snaps, his contained anger evident. 

          One of them attempts to edge around the side for a sightline, but Bruce cautiously angles himself to ensure nothing touches Jason. Jason doesn’t protest, only huffing to himself at his less than subtle antics.  

          “Weapons down!” Gordon calls, stepping into the room.  

          The cops don’t seem all that convinced, but they do as Gordon says. 

          “You two, my office, now.” 

          “But, sir! He’s still got all his guns!” 

          Gordon huffs. “If he turns on us, do you really think it’ll matter if he has guns? Just go back to your casework. If any one of you gets any ideas, you will answer to me, and you’ll likely lose your job.” 

          Ah, good ol’ Commissioner Gordon. Jason smiles.  

          They follow him back to his office and wait for him to sit down. Bruce closes the blinds and toggles his signal jammer. A low hum runs through the comms, but doesn’t affect them otherwise. 

          “Please, sit.” 

          “Pass.” Jason says, pulling the release for his helmet. “I’d much rather introduce myself standing up. Shock factor and all that.” 

          Gordon blinks upon seeing his face. “You look familiar.” 

          “I’d better. We worked together for a few years before my ‘death’.” Jason says, putting up a pair of quotey fingers for effect.  

          Gordon spots the brand on his cheek and his expression goes slack. Bruce hasn’t had a chance to fill him in on anything that’s happened in the last couple weeks, caught between work and nightly activities. Wayne Enterprises is heavily involved in the clean-up efforts.  

          “Jason?” he whispers, standing up and approaching him. “I had no idea.... How? Joker  _murdered_  you.” 

          The heartbroken way he says it hurts a little and Jason tries to shrug it off. “Not exactly.” 

          Gordon looks to Bruce. “So that’s what you meant when you said he was your son. I guess I should have known, but it just didn’t seem... plausible.” He turns back to Jason, resting a hand on his shoulder and gripping it. “It’s good to see you, kid.” 

          “You too.” Jason answers, inclining his head to him a little. “Um, Commish?” 

          “Yeah?” 

          “Look, I’m sorry about Barbara. I never intended... I didn’t mean to-” 

          Gordon shakes his head. “I admit, I probably would still be angry with you if I didn’t know who you were. As far as I'm concerned, it's Barbara you should be apologizing to. I had half a mind to take a swing at you when you walked in, but I didn’t suppose it’d go over well.” he chuckles, leaning back against the desk. “I suppose I have to assume something changed between you two, since the war on the streets has come to a bit of a halt.” 

          Jason nods, settling down on top of his short file cabinet and crossing his ankles. “It turns out my death was where things got a little murky. You guys thought I was dead, but Joker... Joker told me that Batman knew I was still alive. The video you guys have.... I don’t know how, but he tampered with it so well that Bruce and Tim believed he shot me in the head.” 

          Gordon glances at Bruce where he’s still looming by the door, his stoic silence making the room seem crowded. “So... did he actually shoot you?” 

          Jason nods, unclipping his chest plate and tugging his armor down to show Jim the scar. “We were in Arkham, the lowest wing. It had been decommissioned due to the crumbling foundation. He went upstairs and found the best doctor he could to patch me up. Her hands were shaking so badly, it was a wonder I survived. I don’t... I can’t remember her face. After Joker was sure I wasn’t going to die, he shot her. Left her to rot in the corner of the room.” 

          Bruce comes a bit closer at the tremor in his voice, resting a hand on his shoulder. Gordon recognizes the action, having done so for Barbara on many occasions. Makes Gordon wish he could bring the Joker back just for the chance to kill the freak himself.

          “I can’t... I can’t remember a lot from after that, but I can still hear his laughter. And...  _this_.” he mutters, gesturing to his face.  

          “We’ll get rid of it somehow, kiddo.” Bruce says, helping him secure his chest plate again since his hands are shaking now. “Promise.” 

          Jason grimaces, seeming less certain but agreeing nonetheless.  

          Gordon watches Bruce interact with him, noting how different he seems compared to a few weeks ago. It looks like he shaved recently, and he can’t really tell with the cowl, but he doesn’t seem so tired. He’s standing taller again, like the weight of the world has left him somehow. When Jason smiles, Bruce smiles back and it doesn’t seem forced at all.  He’s... brighter, even with the Batman get-up. Like that old fire is back. 

          Gordon is beyond pleased by this change.  

          “So, what are you two up to today, in broad daylight? I do hope you’ll stick to the shadows, Batman. We don’t need you getting any suspicious tan lines.” 

          Jason chuckles, the tension in his shoulders dying down. “We’re chasing down what’s left of Harvey’s crew. Bruce caught the majority of them before they could do anything, but a few are still running loose.” 

          “Better get going then. I hear Nightwing is still hanging around near Main.” 

          “We’ll coordinate with him. Don’t worry, Jim.” 

          Gordon ushers them towards the door. “I’ll get units out patrolling. Things are better, but still not great. I just wish we had some people to get rid of all the graffiti. The Riddler made it all over town, and it’s ridiculous to see so much green on the streets.” 

          Jason slides his helmet back on before he leaves the room, looking back at Gordon. “Tell you what. You let my people go and I’ll pay them to do it. They’re here to work and probably don’t care what it is as long as they get paid.” 

           “Those boys need to be in private security, kid.” 

          “And they might end up there, but first we can clean up a bit of the mess around here. A little manual labor won’t hurt them. Wayne Enterprises can’t get all the credit.” 

          Bruce chuckles as Gordon considers, his hand ready to open the door as soon as the decision is made. 

          “Fine. Take your people and get out of here. If I catch them doing anything illegal, they’ll be right back in here and I won’t be letting them go like this again.” 

          “Sure thing, Gordon.” 

          Bruce lets the door swing open and they walk out into the precinct. Jason gets rude looks and gestures from the detectives and cops spread around. Jason doesn’t really mind. Bruce, on the other hand, seems to have a less than cheery opinion of their actions. His frown follows them around the room until they exit. Jason stops in front of the first cell block with his men in it and Lexon strides forwards. 

          “What’s the news, boss?” 

          “You’re getting out.” 

          He and all the men back up a step, eyes narrowing at him. “What did it cost you?” 

          “Nothing.” 

          Bruce nods in agreement when they look to him for confirmation. “He has work for you to do, and it benefits both him and Gordon. No charges so long as you keep out of trouble. I’m sure the Arkham Knight will be keeping an eye on you.” 

          Bruce opens the door and the militia members cautiously step out, following Jason around the jail as Bruce lets his men out. They eye Bruce as he keeps Jason near him, his own gaze sweeping over the police with their hands hovering near their weapons. 

          “Boss, is the Bat protecting you or somethin’?” Hollard murmurs, reading Bruce’s body language and the way he’s angling himself to block Jason from view as much as possible.  

          “Let's just say old habits die hard."

          They walk out of the precinct with their small army and Jason hops into the Batmobile with Bruce. His men stand at the door in a few rows waiting for instructions. Jason smiles under his helmet.  

          “You boys head for the base once transport gets here. I’ll meet you there soon with new assignments.” 

          “You’ll stay out of trouble?” 

          Jason laughs, gesturing for Bruce to close the hatch. “Never in a million years. See ya’ soon.” 

          They pivot in place and speed away, Jason tapping at his own gauntlet to summon vehicles for them. The response time is fair considering the few he has left spread around. The trackers have them arriving about five minutes after they’re out of the building and then quickly speeding away.  

          “I’d say that went well.” 

          Bruce smiles. “Neither of us were shot, so that’s good news.” 

          “Yep. My men should be at base in about twenty. I’ll probably give them an hour to resupply and suit up again. After that will come coordination efforts and some heavy lifting.” 

          “If some of them aren’t pleased with the change, there are security firms where you could send them. I'm sure it'd be appreciated to have work again right away.” 

          “They’ll be fine. These boys were handpicked by yours truly. They might not exactly know why, but they’ll support the change as long as it’s me making it. They don’t work for just anyone.” 

          “You have some fairly deep pockets.” 

          “Sometimes I wonder if you remember who you raised. My pockets could be lined with gold and no one would be the wiser.” 

          Bruce chuckles. “I do remember who I raised. Now I’m wondering whose pockets you stole.” 

          Jason laughs, tilting his head back as he removes his helmet. “Would you be mad if I said ‘Lex Luthor’?” 

          Bruce’s laughter fills the car for what feels to him like the first time in ages. It’s bright and the smile on his face matches, Jason grinning widely in the seat next to him. “That’s my boy.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is my first requested fic in a while. Hope you enjoyed it! :)


End file.
